The return of the native

 

Yanked off the hinges,

Torn away and blown to pieces,

Buried under the rubble,

Cut off from the rays of hope,

Dark clouds of locusts

devouring the crop of my effort.

 

Shame-stabbed,

Pacing the room like a caged animal,

Destiny’s chainsaws

cutting, clawing and gnawing

through the fibers of my existence.

 

Carrying autumnal colors in spring,

The serrated edges of memories

cutting the structure of my world,

The ghosts of sadness outside

always ready to barge into me.

 

That was how I set out

to kill the demons outside,

Went far and wide,

forgetting those that I carried

in the safe secrecy of my own self.

 

It was like a dust collector

carrying  a huge burlap sack,

Needlessly carting dust

oblivious to gems hidden in heart.

 

I went too far away

from my own self,

Got lost, cried, felt orphaned,

That’s when I felt Her touch,

Mother nature’s touch,

The furrows on my forehead

smoothened with Her touch,

It was then a slow crawl to recovery,

I felt the chirring, buzzing mystery

of emptiness around a rainbow.

 

There I stood in a wooded corner,

The time brewed a heady spirit

mixing tears and laughter,--

the potion to mend broken hearts,

The trees smiled among

the twisting vines of triumphs and travails,

Juicy, plentiful harmony pervading the air,

The birds with effervescent chorus of hope,

Each moment extending its realm of

harmony, ease, joy, lightness.

 

I felt in communion with vastness,

Vast stretches invaded with peace,

I was no longer a lonely lighthouse

struggling against the dark,

I felt like sun during the day

and like moon during the night.

 

It’s very easy to fall prey to sadness

and become a rock,

But it’s still easier to turn a happy soul

who chats with trees

and sings to flowers.

 

Far away in the solitude of a forest

I felt closer to humanity

than I ever felt even in a crowded bazaar

rubbing shoulders with human bodies,

There I was lonely, distanced,

Here I was alone

but so-so near to humanity in my heart.

 

Sharing the unsaid mixed in the silence,

I saw, felt, touched, tasted, heard holy scriptures

in forests, flowers, streams, blue skies, birds,

My religion became life itself,

God and godliness pervading humanly

and non-humanly on this vast canvas.

 

Reinvigorated, refurbished, renovated,

I then return to the busy streets,

The streets carrying the same old clatter,

But all has changed,

The shield of silence enveloped around

keeps me wired

to that far-flung harmony.

 

The return of the native

who is in tune with

the undertone of silence

even in a clattering bazaar.

 

Now I don’t close my eyes

to meditate,

I open them

to see this endless magic,

this infinite beauty.